Traveling through a Series of Tubes

On September 22, my daily commute will become more complicated, or so it seems. Instead of driving 30 miles to work and passing through a Bridge-Tunnel that terrifies drivers so badly that they slow to a staggering 15-20 MPH, I'll be sitting next to strangers for 20 minutes on the DC Metro system. I find it funny that many people say I'll have to get used to the DC traffic when, in actuality, I won't have to drive that often, and when I do, I will live far enough into suburbia that the traffic shouldn't (knock on wood) be that bad.

Here are illustrations, provided by Google Maps and the DC Metro Web site, of my commute: past and future.

Commute 1: Yorktown to Virginia Beach, VA. (Illustrated on left)

My Hell for 2 years. The distance isn't that bad, and the drive is quite lovely. However the company on the road of Hampton Roads can be horrific. My BFF has become Traffic 610AM, KNJR841, which tells me how long my drive will be. Yes, I know all the shortcuts/ traffic avoiders, but it doesn't help when all you want to do is get home in time to watch a good rerun of Reba. VDOT should really host a 101 course focusing on how to deal with underwater tunnels. They can title it "No, the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel will not collapse on you, leading to your slow and painful death."

Commute 2: The Orange Line.

(Illustrated on right)

I am not sharing my stops, so don't try and stalk me. This commute should cost me $800 less a month than my Hampton Roads tunnel drive, according to some online calculations. Problems that may occur: smelly people sitting next to me, falling asleep and missing my stop, sleeping in and missing the train I need and/ or walking so much that I get down to a healthy weight (Explanation: My father, trying to woo me to stay, has taken to baking a cake a week. They're delicious, how can I say no?)

I understand that losing weight shouldn't be a problem, and it really isn't one. I'd LOVE to slim down, but for me, a healthy size 8 (translation: size 10), getting back to my original size of a 6 would cause my family to wonder if they should send me to rehab for an eating disorder.

And my answer? "Nooooo no no."